


Lines

by flightclub



Series: In which Youngjae gets cheated on [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Parallel Universes, but mostly sadness, fluff if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 05:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10914849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightclub/pseuds/flightclub
Summary: He clears his throat, and his mind, as he tries to speak again."I can't do this anymore, Jinyoung, I wish we'd never met."





	Lines

_15th May 2023_

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_i. the ending point_

The sound of a china plate smashing against a wall resonates through the room, blanketing the surroundings in a temporary silence. The man who threw it stands at the other end, eyes wide and glassy, black hair falling messily upon his head, cheeks flushed, breathing laboured. For a second he look panic-stricken, regretful, but soon his walls are back up, and the familiar blank expression washes over his features. 

"Say that again." His voice monotonous.

The second man, the original target for the plate, slowly stands back up after having dodged the flying object seconds before. He opens his mouth to speak but the words are caught in his throat. 

It was never meant to end like this. They were meant to spend their lives together, get married, start a family and love eachother until their time was up. But not every relationship can run so smoothly. And after months of being lied to by eyes he used to be able to read like an open book, months of finding items of clothing in their room that he can't remember buying, Youngjae has had enough.

He clears his throat, and his mind, as he tries to speak again. 

"I can't do this anymore, Jinyoung, I wish we'd never met." 

 

_12th January 2017_

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_ii. tangent_

Youngjae burries himself deeper into his scarf to shield himself from the chilly winter air. It's his first day off in weeks. He's finished all of his assignments in advance and hasn't been given shifts so for once he can relax, spend some time by himself and replenish his energy previously lost during the hectic weeks of classes and his job. 

A particularly cold breeze sends shivers throughout Youngjaes body, and so he's thankful when he turns a corner to find he's arrived at the coffee shop he set out for that morning. It's in a pretty obscure part of town, the street is almost empty bar a few shops with whited out windows and large 'for sale' signs plastered onto their doors. The coffee shop looks out of place amongst the rest with its freshly painted exterior and welcoming sign hanging above its door. Youngjae smiles to himself, entering quietly as the tinkling of a bell sounds overhead. 

There aren't too many people inside, perhaps ten at most, but the atmosphere is warm and inviting with cliché café music playing softly in the background and the calming smell of coffee lingering in the air.

Youngjae orders himself a hot chocolate, not being too keen on the bitterness of coffee, and seats himself in the corner of the shop. It's cozy, the seats are cushioned and his table is secluded from the rest of the place by a couple of bookshelves filled with classics. He's about to take his fist sip of drink when he hears a gentle cough from above him and a _Is this seat taken?_ , and the sight he sees when he looks up knocks the breath out of his lungs.

Stood next to the table is a man who looks to be around Youngjaes own age, if not a few years older, and Youngjae allows himself a few moments to study every detail of the mans face and commit it to memory. His black hair falls gently onto his forehead annd looks so smooth that had Youngjae no self-restraint, he would've carded his fingers through it then and there. His face is slender, his jawline is sharp but softened out by the fullness of his cheeks, and his lips are plump and pink, parted slightly as he exhales. But what catches Youngjaes attention the most is the mans eyes. They're dark, but so full of expression Youngjae feels like he's looking into the mans soul, like he could uncover all secrets just by his eyes alone. Only a few seconds have passed but Youngjae hasn't replied and the man has definitely noticed his stares, his eyes shining before turning into crescents as he smiles the most beautiful smile youngjae has ever seen. Youngjae is in awe, and he doesn't believe in love at first sight, but he thinks this is pretty damn close. 

"U-um, hi. I'm not expecting anyone, please take a seat." Youngjae finally responds and the man flashes a last grateful smile before sitting himself on the opposite side and pulling out a book from his bag. 

"Thank you, I'm Jinyoung."

"Youngjae, nice to meet you." Jinyoungs gaze is curious as he takes in Youngjaes flushed cheeks after his mumbled introduction, and chuckles to himself before opening the book on the last page he read up to.

The two sit in silence for the good part of half an hour before a phone rings, and Jinyoungs answers, worry taking over his features seconds later as he hurridly packs his things and leaves with no more than a goodbye wave directed to Youngjae.

It all happened so quickly and Youngjae is left dazed and confused, wondering if he will ever meet Jinyoung again.

He doesn't.

 

_12th January 2017_

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_iii. asymptote_

Youngjae burries himself deeper into his scarf to shield himself from the chilly winter air. He's exhausted, to be frankly honest. He's behind on all of his assignments and has definitely worked too many shifts in the last month, with barely any time to eat or sleep, but for once he can relax. He is in desperate need for some coffee. 

A particularly cold breeze sends shivers throughout Youngjaes body, and so he's thankful when he turns a corner to find he's arrived at the coffee shop he set out for that morning. It's in a pretty obscure part of town, the street is almost empty bar a few shops with whited out windows and large 'for sale' signs plastered onto their doors. The coffee shop looks out of place amongst the rest with its freshly painted exterior and welcoming sign hanging above its door. Youngjae enters quietly, and the tinkling of a bell sounds overhead. 

There aren't too many people inside, perhaps ten at most, but the atmosphere is warm and inviting with cliché café music playing softly in the background and the calming smell of coffee lingering in the air.

Youngjae orders himself an americano, despite not being too keen on the bitterness of coffee, and seats himself in the corner of the shop. It's cozy, the seats are cushioned and his table is secluded from the rest of the place by a couple of bookshelves filled with classics. He pulls out his laptop to work on his latest composition and puts in his headphones. 

Minutes later Youngjae can already feel the beginnings of a headache, and lets out a groan as he hides his head between his folded arms on the table. He hears a muffled cough above him, and doesn't think much of it until he hears footsteps gradually getting further away, and looks up to see a figure with soft black hair retreating out of the shop. 

He feels bad for ignoring the stranger, and an unfamiliar longing bubbles in his chest.

He chalks it up to exhaustion.

 

_12th January 2017_

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_iv. Parallel_

Youngjae burries himself deeper into his scarf to shield himself from the chilly winter air. He's exhausted, physically and emotionally. He's behind on all of his assignments and has definately worked too many shifts in the last month, with barely any time to eat or sleep, his parents won't stop calling to ask if he's found a pretty girl to marry yet, and none of his friends have contacted in weeks. He is in desperate need for some coffee. 

A particularly cold breeze sends shivers throughout Youngjaes body, and so when he turns a corner to find he's arrived at the coffee shop he set out for that morning, he lets out a heavy sigh of relief. It's in a pretty obscure part of town, the street is almost empty bar a few shops with whited out windows and large 'for sale' signs plastered onto their doors. The coffee shop looks out of place amongst the rest with its freshly painted exterior and welcoming sign hanging above its door. Youngjae enters, and the tinkling of a bell sounds overhead. 

There aren't too many people inside, perhaps ten at most, theres cliché café music playing softly in the background which only serves to worsen Youngjaes headache, and the smell of coffee feels overwhelming to his senses.

Youngjae orders himself a black americano, he hates coffee, but he feels numb inside and needs something strong to wake him up. He walks away feeling regretful at the clipped tone he had used with the barista, and hopes she'll serve nicer customers later in the day. He seats himself in the corner of the shop. It's cozy, the seats are cushioned and his table is secluded from the rest of the place by a couple of bookshelves filled with classics. He slumps in his seat, pulls his hood over his head and after a while, ends up falling asleep.

He dreams of warm smiles, inviting eyes and soft hair. He dreams of quiet pleasantries and shy giggles and of excitement, endearment, longing. He dreams of new starts, new faces, new routines, hand holding and gentle presses of lips. He dreams of skin gliding against skin, careful caresses, 'i love you's and 'you're my everything's. He dreams of late hours, empty beds, then suddenly beds which are too full, occupied by one stranger too many. He dreams of lies and deceit, of tears and apologies, of makeup sex and detatched post-sex cuddles. He dreams of anger, of shouting and more tears, more intense. He dreams of a china plate smashing against a wall.

He wakes up, and Youngjae has never felt quite so empty.

**Author's Note:**

> So... this it's been over a year since I last wrote something, I'm hoping my writing has improved if only slightly and you didn't find this too awful! :)
> 
> I got the idea for this from a post on tumblr saying that lines tell the most tragic of love stories.
> 
> Tangent lines meet once but then part forever.  
> Asymptote lines gradually get closer to one another but part before they get the chance to cross.  
> And Parallel lines, they are never destined to meet. 
> 
> I thought the concept of this was very beautiful, so it inspired me for the first time in months. <3


End file.
